


Here

by saraid



Category: The Authority
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>before they got married, before Jenny, it was just them and the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here

“Just when I think I can do this.”

“Do what?”

Midnighter looked across the room, at his lover. Currently lying back on the neatly made bed, Apollo glowed gently, just enough to light his face, a scant aura that became that much more significant when compared to Midnighter’s own darkness.

The internal darkness that sometimes - and sometimes more often than not - threatened to swallow him whole. Drag him down into the miasma of his engineered psyche, with barely a whimper of protest.

Tonight this darkness kept him here. On the other side of the room, back pressed to a corner, arms crossed over his chest. 

Afraid to brave Apollo’s light, lest he sully it with his darkness.

The soft smile Apollo gave him was enough for him to know that Apollo knew what he was doing and why.

It also managed to express the belief that he, Midnighter, was being melodramatic and perhaps just a little bit silly.

“Do what?” Apollo asked again, rolling to sit up, leaning back on extended arms.

“This. Be - a part of this team.” Stand beside you forever.

“You are doing it.” Apollo watched him closely. His brilliant blue eyes were amused, loving and a little bit sad.

Midnighter watched the muscles twitch in Apollo’s left forearm. He didn’t need the computer in his brain to predict the possible reasons for that. He’d seen it too many times before.

Apollo was fighting the urge to reach for him. To extend the hand of welcome; to beckon.

 

He would wait until Midnighter made it clear he was ready. He didn’t have to abandon his brood, exactly, but he would need to tone it down before Apollo would make the offer. Before he would accept it.

To protect Apollo’s light.

He wasn’t ready yet. It was still too dark inside him. He knew he couldn’t believe he belonged here, no matter what Apollo said, and he couldn’t bear to reject the man’s gentle words.

Not yet. 

So he changed the subject. A little rant, which would shock the other team members, who probably thought he was a savant that could only speak in Apollo’s presence.

“Did you see what the Doctor did? I mean, you weren’t there, but you heard. Do you see?”

“I’m willing to bet I don’t see it the way you do.” Knees drawn up, elbows resting on them, hands clasped and dangling. Not a defensive position, as it would have been for many people, but a casual one. Still welcoming.

“I’m an ant.” Midnighter felt his insides tighten as he uttered the words. “An ant. I have about as much business fighting alongside you people as a Chihuahua at a Doberman convention.”

The mental image startled a chuckle out of Apollo, who spread his arms wide; half stretch, half invitation. Hearing him, Midnighter felt better in spite of himself.

“You took out Gomorra by yourself.”

“The Carrier took out Gomorra.”

“You thought of it.”

“So it’s the computer in my head that gets the credit, as always.”

With a groan, Apollo flopped back on the bed, arms flung wide. The spread was dark, a maroon the shade of dried human blood. Against it his glow grew warmer. The white of his briefs and undershirt only enhanced the effect.

 

“Give up?” Midnighter grinned, as friendly as he could be. The darkness was receding. Sometimes all it took was awareness of Apollo’s light, and the fact that he was wanted in it.

“You win. Wake me when the brood is over.” 

Apollo didn’t sound resigned, or angry, or even sad. Just matter-of-fact. Accepting Midnighter for who he was, just the way he was. 

It was that easy acceptance that got Midnighter moving. A couple of steps; out of the shadows, toward the light. Behind him, the not-glass portal opened on a vista of black so dark it was purple, with the richness of alien blood. Not the Bleed, but some other pathway, the purpled black barely only rarely lightened by inexplicable patches of ruby-orange. Not that any of it made any sense.

Not much in his life did, anymore.

Except this.

It was always hard to take off the clothes. The leather was his armor in more ways than the others might imagine. It protected his body, but it also protected his eyes. As long as he was in it, he didn’t have to see the revulsion on the faces of others when they saw the real him.

What was left of him after Bendix’s surgeons were finished.

He understood that they hadn’t been concerned with his attractiveness. But there were some places that the scars were so badly mangled; puckered, ragged, still glaringly colored after so many years - so grotesque that the only conclusion his enhanced brain could reach was that they must have become infected. The surgeons had used clumsy grafts to close them.

Others had seen him, without the armor. By accident, by circumstance.

The only living person that had seen him voluntarily unclad was the man lying on the not-so-big bed, watching him from under half-closed eyelids.

An avid blue gaze that belied the casual sprawl.

 

A warm blue gaze that made it easier to shed the chameleon skin of black leather and expose himself as he was.

Just as he was.

“I’m falling asleep, “ Apollo murmured quietly. He rolled his head slowly sideways, opened his eyes and looked at Midnighter.

“No, you’re not. You’re watching me.”

Apollo smiled; slow, lazy, sexy.

“Yes, I am.”

Stopping beside the bed, naked to that gaze, Midnighter shook his head. He resisted the urge to cross his arms protectively over his chest. When the room was dark, when he stood in the dark, he didn’t mind so much. Being naked. Being vulnerable.

He closer he got to Apollo’s light, the harder it was.

He could see Apollo’s awareness of his struggle. Apollo knew, and he knew when it was okay to help.

The line had been crossed – Midnighter had made the approach. Now Apollo reached off the bed, his hand open. Invitation.

“I’ll never understand why you do that. Watch me.” Midnighter hesitated. The choice was, as always, too clear.

The darkness or the light?

To live inside himself or beside Apollo?

Though he regretted it, he did not always choose his lover.

“Because I love you.” Apollo waited patiently. The hint of sadness was back in his eyes. Just a little bit. In contrast, there was happiness and encouragement on his face. “Because you are beautiful to me.”

 

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m the God of the Sun. I’ll say whatever I want.” A mock pout, and Midnighter had to work to sound gruff.

“Not like I can stop you.” The sarcasm was thick, but expected. Apollo blew out an exasperated sigh.

“Would you just come to bed?”

Feigning reluctance, Midnighter slid into the space between his lover and the edge of the mattress. He just fit.

“Need more room?” Apollo’s arm came around him and Midnighter was held close.

“If I want to breathe.” Belying his own words, Midnighter snuggled closer, throwing an arm over Apollo’s massive chest.

“Guess not.” Apollo used both hands to pull him closer, lifting until Midnighter was sprawled half on top of him, a cool, clinging blanket askew on his body. “You’re cold.”

“You’re just now noticing that?” Of course he was cold. He was always cold. As he carried the darkness within; it drained the heat from his body.

Apollo was warm. A great huge living solar battery should have been too hot to touch, but he was really wonderfully warm. Pleasant. Comfortable.

“I love that you’re warm,” he nuzzled into Apollo’s neck.

“I love you, too.” Apollo stroked his big hand through Midnighter’s short - butch – hair. “Want to sleep?”

“In a while. You going to?”

“When you do.”

“Okay.”

 

It was decided that simply. Sleep or sex was seldom an issue, they made time for both whenever possible, but the sex was – and always would be – secondary to the closeness.

“I’m not ready. To sleep,” Midnighter admitted reluctantly a few minutes later. The room seemed the be darkening of its own accord.

“I know.” Apollo hugged him, and petted his head some more. “We could do something else.”

“Why?” Midnighter rubbed his head against the stroking hand. He was just being contrary; he wanted it, too, but admitting it would have made it too easy.

“To help you sleep.” Apollo rumbled a laugh as he answered, his stroking becoming a rough caress.

“To help me sleep.” Midnighter sounded doubtful.

“Just shut up and roll over already.” Apollo laughed happily, using both hands to shift Midnighter to the other side of the bed, his back to Apollo.

A shudder ran through Midnighter. Anticipation, desire... knowing that he was going to be held, going to be filled with and surrounded by Apollo’s great warmth and light. A soft moan escaped him and huge hands were gentle on his body as Apollo kissed the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” Apollo sounded pleased with himself. “I’ll help you sleep.”

Midnighter was too busy appreciating to respond. He felt the movement behind him as Apollo kicked off his briefs, and the worn cotton of his undershirt was soft against Midnighter’s back when Apollo pressed close to him.

Big arms around him, big body behind him, big dick in him. Midnighter forgot about the scars when Apollo pushed a leg forward and entered him, slow and steady. He forgot the darkness, the team, and the Doctor’s horrifying stunt with Italy.

He forgot everything but the big man that held him, the big hands that stroked him and the big heart that loved him.

 

He forgot so much, and so completely, that his climax took him by surprise; held firmly, and then he shuddered his way back down to reality with Apollo panting heavily in his ear, his arms around Midnighter tight enough to bruise.

Apollo recovered first, whispering silly things to him, because he could be a really silly and sappy guy. Midnighter listened with sated, half-embarrassed pleasure until he could breathe again, then he twisted his head around. He wanted a kiss, but would not ask for it.

Apollo knew, and gave it to him. Sweet, hot and soothing. After a minute Midnighter relaxed again into the bed and the embrace, and closed his eyes.

Much later, when Apollo was snoring softly beside him, Midnighter freed himself from those arms.

“I still don’t think I belong here,” he whispered into the darkness. He rolled, but was caught and pulled back to his lover’s side, unresisting.

“You belong here,” Apollo muttered sleepily. Midnighter smiled in spite of himself. The man had been sound asleep three seconds ago, he was certain of it.

“Here with you,” he said, more gently than was his wont.

“Exactly.” Apollo blinked his eyes open. “Here.”

“But not on this te–“

Apollo clapped a hand over his mouth with a frown.

“Do I have to put you to sleep again?”

A spark shot through Midnighter’s body, but he shook his head no.

“Then just please accept that you are where you belong, in every sense of the word, and rest here with me.”

His eyes held Midnighter’s. The sadness in them was only faintly visible, but Midnighter could see it well enough that he gave in. Pursing his lips, he kissed the palm covering them.

 

Apollo smiled. Then he yawned.

“Okay. Here.” He rolled to his side and arranged Midnighter so they could spoon together, as they’d made love. His fingers trailed a lingering caress down Midnighter’s face, to his neck and then his heart. Midnighter swallowed heavily.

“Here,” he whispered. “Okay.


End file.
